The Story You Tell Yourself Is the Difference Between Progress and Procrastination.
Most people react to the word exercise in one of two ways — with a smile or with a deep sigh.
You can almost predict who belongs to which camp before they even answer. The sigh people roll their eyes, audibly exhale, and prepare a list of reasons why “it’s just not for them.” The smile people? They don’t treat exercise as a chore — it’s woven into their identity. It’s as natural as brushing their teeth.
Then there’s the middle camp. They don’t love it, but they don’t hate it either. They tick the box because they know it’s “good for them.” They enjoy it while they’re there, but wouldn’t call it a passion.
In one single day, I had a conversation with two women — one a hybrid of the middle camp… and one a certified member of the absolutely not club. Their stories couldn’t be more different — yet both illuminated the same truth: Your relationship with movement isn’t about time or energy. It’s about the story you’re telling yourself.
Story One: The Overloaded Leader Who Dreams of a Walk.
The first woman is a high-performing CEO juggling a thriving company and a fast-paced startup. Before the startup phase, she loved ending her day with a gym session. But now? Her mornings begin with her inbox, and her nights end with exhaustion. Exercise feels like a luxury she can no longer afford.
Except — her body disagrees. Stress finally sent her to the doctor’s office. The prescription wasn’t medication. It was movement and mindfulness.
In our conversation, she confessed quietly:
“I dream about waking up early... just to walk. Just 30 minutes. Fresh air. Movement. But I never do it. My phone wins every morning.”
Now, let me be clear — ideally, she’d carve out sacred time in the morning: no email, no interruptions — just walking with stillness, or paired with an inspiring podcast. Movement as mindfulness. Not multitasking.
But life isn’t always ideal. And if waiting for perfect conditions keeps you stuck… perfection is just another form of procrastination.
So instead of clinging to “I can’t walk because I have to check my phone,” we reframed it to:
“I can walk while taking care of what’s urgent. I can turn a meeting into a moving one.”
Her entire face shifted. Relief. Permission. Possibility.
Would I prefer she had quiet, uninterrupted “her time”? Absolutely.
But walking while talking is still better than dreaming about walking and never going.
One day, she’ll reclaim that quiet morning ritual. For now? She’s choosing movement over fantasy. Reality over wishful thinking.
And more importantly — she remembered: This season won’t last forever. I am building, not burning out.
Story Two: The Soon-to-Be Bride Who Would Rather Do Anything Else.
Later that evening, I met a woman in her late twenties. Engaged. A successful social worker. Healthy. No children. And passionately opposed to exercise.
She claimed she’d “tried everything,” which really meant she’d once attempted running — straight from zero movement to full exertion. Naturally, she hated it.
Even her upcoming wedding wasn’t enough to motivate her. She had convinced herself that exercise had no place in her life — buried under long workdays, late-night Netflix binges, the struggle to wake up early, and the refusal to trade even a page of reading for an earlier bedtime. Over time, she had hypnotised herself into believing that exercise was inherently uncomfortable, exhausting, and simply didn’t belong in her world.
As a coach, I don’t offer advice where it hasn’t been requested — so I stayed silent. But if she had been my client, I wouldn’t have started with a plan. I would have started with questions — the same questions I now want to ask you:
What is it costing you not to get healthier?
What has it already cost you in the past — in energy, confidence, relationships, opportunity?
What do you associate with losing weight or getting fit? Is it pain? Sacrifice? Judgment?
What are you really fearing?
Is it failure? The shame of regressing after progress? Or the unfamiliarity of actually succeeding?
Right now, maybe like her, you associate movement with loss, inconvenience, and discomfort and focused only on what you might lose:
Your comfort. Your routine. Your precious morning snooze. A bit of pride when you feel awkward, slow, or out of breath.
But what if we flipped the lens…
What could you gain?
More energy. More confidence. More self-respect. More presence with the people you love. Relief. Joy. Reconnection.
And if you were truly honest with yourself:
What belief would you need to let go of to make that shift?
What story would you need to forget?
Who benefits when you show up as your most energised and engaged self?
Because once movement becomes about pleasure, pride, and peace, you won’t be asking, “How do I force myself?” You’ll be saying, “Why didn’t I start sooner?”
And Now — Over To You.
Maybe you love exercise but procrastinate on something else. Maybe it’s not the gym — it’s your writing, your dream project, your boundaries, your health.
So let me ask you:
What do you say you want — and what story do you tell yourself that keeps you from getting it?
Because once you’re honest about the story, you have the power to rewrite it.
Not with a grand gesture.
But with the next tiny step:
Five minutes of walking.
One page of writing.
One boundary held.
One promise kept.
And then? Celebrate. Then repeat.
Final Thoughts — Your New Story Starts Here.
There is always a gap between what we want and what we do. That gap is not laziness. It’s not a lack of time. It’s not discipline.
It’s a story.
So today, don’t force yourself into action. Simply rewrite your story.
Instead of “I can’t because…” try:
“What’s one way I could — even if it’s imperfect?”
Progress doesn’t come from pressure. It comes from possibility.
And your next move? It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be yours.
Here’s to owning your story,
Warm wishes,
Lori